Bleeding Heart
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Patrick can't take the silence. Not today. NO Jisbon Please R&R EmotionallyHurt!Patrick


--No Jisbon guys, just friends.--

**Bleeding Heart**

Silence. I hate silence. Never ending, pressing, constant silence. It tries to suffocate me, wraps itself around me as if it were a comforter only to hold on too tight.

I stare at the ceiling, begging for sleep to save me from it. To take me away from my torturer. Yet in sleep I find a new way to feel pain. Through dreams. Dreams of tiny faces and light giggles. Dreams of gentle kisses and caresses. Dreams of bone chilling screams and blood. Blood running through the floors, pooling and still running at my feet when I opened the door.

I didn't know what was worse anymore, the silence or the dreams.

These rooms feel so cold. They feel as empty as my heart. That face he painted on my wall…I cannot see a smile without seeing it.

I have to think about it. I have to. I can't not think about it. But everyday I do he wins. I'm letting him win. And that makes me angry. That makes hate bubble in my stomach so hot it can only be considered molten. I want to rip his heart from his chest and hold it in my hand until it stops beating.

Until I remember her face again, smiling at me with so much love and admiration it breaks my heart now. I know she wouldn't want me to be this way. She would want me to move on with my life, to love again.

How can I? How am I supposed to let the man that slaughtered them walk free? I can't. I won't. I wish I could.

I rolled over, hiding my face in my pillow. The silence was still there, so quiet and yet so loud at the same time. I covered my ears, trying to stifle the screaming and the laughter that resounded through my head. I usually tried to work myself ragged so sleep was simple and came dreamlessly and gave me no time to think, at all.

But there were nights, nights like this that left me awake and unable to hardly sleep at all. And if I did, it was fitful, restless, and left me waking in a cold sweat, reaching for someone that would never be there again.

My heart feels ravaged and hollowed, twisted, mangled, bloodied. Every time someone says that bastard's name it's squeezed again. It's agonizing. I live with it day after day, smiling to hide it. Working so hard to avoid it. Closing off if someone asks me about it.

I will not break down, not in front of anyone. No one needs to know how bad I hurt. No one needs to know that I can't stand being alone.

But here, in my own home, alone, I can break down. I can do something that I detest doing with a passion. I can cry.

I let the sobs come from my constricted throat, tears falling easily, helplessly, soaking the pillow case underneath my face. I wrapped my arms around it, holding it tight against me. I said her name over and over again, unable to say anything else.

I killed them. I killed my family. Slaughtered them. Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut? I killed them, I killed them, I killed them…

I sobbed harder, turning my head to breathe.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered to nothing. "I'm so sorry…" I felt someone's hand on the back of my head. For one horrific moment I thought it was her, coming to blame me for her death.

"Patrick," This wasn't her voice. But it was one I knew. I turned, looking up at her. I shut my eyes and bowed my head in shame. She touched my cheek, turning my head to face her. I didn't want to look at her. I wondered why she was even here. "Are you okay?" The silence was broken, but God, why was she here?

"What are you doing here?" I croaked, swallowing.

"The door was open, I…" Lisbon said. She touched my cheek again, wiping the tears that were still there.

"Teresa-" She shook her head.

"Don't, Patrick, it's alright." I blinked a few times, but they wouldn't stop. Why today? Why did she have to be here today? Why did she have to see me like this today? I can't fight them today. I can't fight the tears. They continue to slip out of my eyes without my permission, making me feel weak, pathetic, ashamed.

The pity in her face deepened. She hugged me.

"It's okay, Patrick," She whispered. "Just let it out."

~*~

I think I always knew he would be like this. I think I always understood that their deaths haunted him wherever he went, especially when he was alone. But I never fully understood how broken inside he was.

I know now. I know better. I'd heard him sobbing from outside his door. I knew he most likely didn't want me here but…I just couldn't _leave_ him.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't think of anything to say to make him feel better. I don't think anything would help right now. So I hugged him. I know physical contact isn't his thing, but he didn't push me away.

He went rigid, his muscles firm and unwavering. I could _feel_ the pain built up inside him. I could feel that bottle he had shoved his emotions in getting ready to burst.

"It's okay, Patrick," I said, hoping this would work. "Just let it out."

The ice that was his body melted. He went limp in my arms, burying his face in my neck, hugging me back. His body trembled underneath his light blue t-shirt, sobs coming so harshly I wondered if they were painful. He felt so fragile. If I hugged him any tighter I would break him. I was almost certain of that.

I rubbed the back of his head, blonde curls bumping into my fingers. I wasn't sure if this would do him any good, but Patrick was my friend, and I would save him from this nightmare. Even if it was only for a few minutes.

"Shh…" I soothed. "It's okay, it's okay." His breathing was ragged, tears falling so easily from his eyes, agony etched deep in his face.

Realization hit me like a slap in the face. I knew why he was such a mess. I knew why his usual control was missing. I knew why his walls had fallen.

"Patrick," I said gently. "They died today, didn't they?" He swallowed and nodded, his grip tightening on me, sobs growing. I lightly rocked back and forth.

"Sh, sh, shh, it's alright. It's alright."

"He killed them," He choked. "He killed my family. It's my fault, it's all my fault." I shook my head, trying to soothe his pain in some way.

"No, Patrick, you didn't know. It's not your fault." He looked up at me.

His face broke my heart. His eyes were vulnerable, innocent, like a child. His lower lip trembled, and his face, god that face. His face was naked, stripped of any sort of control; the mask that he usually wore was torn to shreds, nonexistent. I wiped a tear out from under his eye and stroked his cheek.

"He killed my baby," I could hear his shattered heart in his voice. "She couldn't even tie her shoes yet," The tears were falling faster. "She was just a baby, Teresa. And he killed her. He killed my baby!"

His face fell in my shirt again. Any holding back that he was attempting was gone. His cries were helpless and unbridled. I hugged him tight, feeling tears of my own welling in my eyes. Unlike the broken man in my arms right now, I could blink mine away. He was so exposed right now. His heart and what he was feeling had been shown to me and me only.

"D-don't tell-" He began.

"Shh, I won't. It's just you and me, Patrick. Okay? Just you and me." I said quietly.

He said nothing for a long time. He simply cried. I'm sure his sides hurt. I'm sure his throat hurt. I'm sure his heart was a bleeding mess. It was an anguish that I couldn't understand no matter how hard I tried to.

"I just want to see them again," He whimpered. My heart twisted. "Just one more time. Just for a minute."

I couldn't tell him that it was time to move on. I couldn't tell him that his life had to continue without them.

How could it? The monster that had slaughtered them was still out there. He was still roaming the streets with full knowledge that Patrick was killing himself from the inside out, dying without them. Overcome with rage and hatred and determination to catch him and make him suffer just as he had. And there was nothing the rest of us could do except watch, wait, and pray.

"Shh…It'll be alright, Patrick. We're gonna catch this guy, okay? I promise we'll get him. I promise."

I think he heard me. I couldn't tell.

He continued to sob. I thought he would run out of tears at the rate he was going. Another long moment passed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. I don't know.

"Teresa?" He whimpered. "P-please, don't leave me," His voice was raw, begging. "Please." I nodded, swallowing hard.

"I won't leave you," I said. "I'll stay right here." I shifted positions, putting my back against the pillows and holding him to my chest. I draped the blanket over him and stroked his cheek. He faced the wall. I wished I could make his pain go away. I wish I could make those tears stop. I prayed that he would be alright.

~*~

I was lost. I was in a place so cold it chilled me to the bone, so quiet you could hear my every breath bounce off walls I couldn't see. Tears never stopped leaking from my eyes. My heart bled all over my hands as they tried to stop it. Pain pulsated through me like electricity. It was so dark I couldn't see my own nose. I collapsed to my knees, the sense of being so alone overwhelming me.

This was what was left of me. This is what I had become. This was my soul.

"Help…" I choked, looking around at the black air around me, wrapping my arms around my chest, feeling warm blood soak through my chest from that awful beating muscle. "Someone, please…help me…" I was so alone in this place, this vast, empty place that someone had hollowed out with a rusted spoon.

Something warm touched my cheek, rubbing it gently. I heard a voice, a gentle, warm voice, coaxing me out of here, saving me from myself.

I jerked awake, panting.

"Please, n-no!" I begged to nothing. It was too dark, I couldn't see. No more dark, please no more dark!

"Hey, hey, hey, easy," That voice again. "It's alright, Patrick. You're okay," Lisbon gently eased my head back down onto her chest. "Shh…it was just a dream. It's alright now. You're safe." I focused on her hand on my back, hugged her tight to feel warmth that I had been deprived of in that nightmare.

"It's okay," She soothed. "It's over, Patrick. You're okay, shh…"

Tomorrow would be easier. A week from now the pain wouldn't be this unbearable. I could go on living just fine. Until this day came again. And again. And again. And again.

I don't know if I can survive that many years.

I hated such a feeling of helplessness. I hated this agony so much. But I would drag on. I would survive the night. I think.

I feel her squeeze me tighter and I know I will. She saved me. God only knows what I would have done if I would have remained as I was in that silence. That awful silence.

Silence. I hate silence.

**THE**

**END**


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